Wednesday, September 1, 2010

Living life through headlights

"E.L. Doctorow said once said that 'Writing a novel is like driving a car at night. You can see only as far as your headlights, but you can make the whole trip that way.' You don't have to see where you're going, you don't have to see your destination or everything you will pass along the way. You just have to see two or three feet ahead of you. This is right up there with the best advice on writing, or life, I have ever heard."
— Anne Lamott (Bird by Bird: Some Instructions on Writing and Life)

I was asked the other day by a college student "so what do you want to do with your life?" For a college student I can see how that would be a common question. However, seeing as I have graduated from college, graduated from graduate school, and held a number of professional positions I find it odd that I should still be asked such a question.

In every single season of life I have felt pressure from friends, family, society, "clocks ticking", etc edging me forward in life. To begin life. Numerous times people have uttered the words "I really think (hope) something special will come of this next season/chapter/position for you". Truth be told the "something" often literally means "someone"...though lately less people have offered false hope of meeting my husband "just around the corner"…perhaps they’ve given up hope? Nevertheless, I finally had the sense to start telling people that I have been living my life to the absolute fullest and not waiting for a certain life to begin, waiting for a 30 year career to suck away my life, pining away in my bedroom waiting for a prince to rescue me from an affair with Ben&Jerry! Hell, I've traveled and lived around the world. Met the most incredible people. And I'm supposed to feel like life hasn't begun for me? That's just total bullshit. I've succumbed to feeling like I have sacrificed a lot in order to travel and floundered in my career path by taking the most amazing job opportunities. In interviewing for jobs I constantly have been put on trial to testify and justify my eclectic resume. And guess what? I’m over it. I’m over trying to justify my life…why I’m single and in my 30s, why I’ve moved around the globe, why I haven’t followed a particular career path. The above quote by Doctorow depicts my life so well – I’m moving forward and following the path that has been lit before me. Granted sometimes God has dimmed those lights and asked me to steer by faith, conviction, and heart. Even the most difficult and challenging paths have led me forward in my journey. In fact, it has been the rough roads that have broken me in, prepared me greater for the plethora of obstacles that continue to arise. I handle and maneuver rough terrain with a different ease than I once did. That’s growth I suppose and I’m thankful for it.

My heart goes out to the millions of college students, recent graduates, and those “flounderers” around the world who are constantly grilled about where their life is heading. My suggestion…before asking your dumb questions, ask yourself first “what have I done and what am I doing with my own life?” Once you are satisfied completely with that answer…not by the standards of the world, your parents, your boss, your professors, your spouse…but truly by your own standards…once you’ve completely impressed yourself with your awesome adventurous, life-giving, life-enriched, selfless life…then and only then can you ask someone else what they are doing with theirs. And guess what? Once you’ve reached that awe-inspiring life that you love I guarantee that your question (or at least the tone of your question) will inspire instead of deflate the human being you are inquiring of.

Tuesday, January 26, 2010

Blind Date

Tonight I helped a good friend get ready for a blind date.

To prepare for this occasion we went on a wondrous adventure to the land of Sephora. Now for all my Sex & the City girlfriends a trip to Sephora or the MAC counter is as common as a trip to the grocery store. But for my dear friend who, like my mother, had never worn a pinch of makeup in her life, this was quite a foreign concept. Such a foreign concept in fact that this lovely 35 year old when inquiring about which brush was used for which purpose asked if she could use a small eyelid brush to apply her foundation and blush. To which the oh so gay and fabulous makeup artist giggled and responded politely "Technically you could use that brush, it just may take a couple hours. And I'm not laughing at you, it's just that that's quite possibly the most adorable thing I've ever heard."

Yet another classic moment in life.

Here was this amazingly accomplished woman who I can barely keep up with in daily conversations, absolutely left in the dust conversing about politics, public policies, or anything anthropological (she holds a PhD from Yale in Anthro) and yet she was over the moon excited about me taking her to Sephora! Precious...just precious.

When I think about having money I think about these moments and how I would spoil all of my friends. I know, I know, I'm trying desperately to consume less...but if you'd seen my friend's face as she left Sephora with her little black bag of beauty 101 essentials, dear god, you'd wish you were freakin' Santa!

Thinking about this too much makes me despise money. I despise it because I don't have it. But I don't want it just for me - I want it to replay moments like the scenario I've just described. I want to go to dinner with friends and as we chat about the economy being in the shit hole and how work sucks I sneak my credit card to the waiter and tell him to inform my friends 'the bill is on us tonight'. I want to take my girlfriends who work so hard at being incredible mothers, wives, friends, and sisters out for manicures, pedicures, and a massage. I want send my parents on the trip to Italy they've been promising to go on for 20 years. I want to finally buy my Bed n' Breakfast and host fabulous dinners and parties for all the people I love.

Giving is the greatest joy and it's my favorite expression of love.

So Lord, since it's better to give than receive, would you mind taking care of my $50,000 of student loans and giving me a rich husband so I can spoil all my friends? Thanks Jesus, you're the best. xoxo

Friday, January 22, 2010

An empty seat.

Riding the subway yesterday I couldn't help noticing the perfectly feng shui placement of people sitting in every other seat. Granted the subway is a bit old school and the seats haven't been updated to accommodate our large luscious American booties, but would that really have made a difference? The seats in most airports around the US (and I've been in most) are pretty spacious and yet when choosing a seat people meander around looking for additional empty seats...often choosing in the end to stand.

Why?

Why do we avoid the empty seat adjacent to a stranger? Seems we've become so accustomed to our personal space that we avoid infringing on others. In a world of connecting via electronics are we losing our ability to connect, to touch, to see, to be a part of one another's lives?

Flying over the winter holidays is shear insanity - I do it every year with the promise of never doing it again. This last year I was held up in the DC airport with thousands of others due to weather conditions. As I walked around the airport, trying to pass the time away, I noticed a woman trying to place a call at the payphone. I actually had forgotten that payphones still existed. Seemed utterly unnecessary for this poor woman to pay for her call. I approached her and offered my cell phone. She explained in a familiar accent that the call was international. "Not a problem, I have Skype".

As I set my computer up for her to access Skype (yes I realize if I had an iPhone this would've taken less steps) I started inquiring about her story. She was from South Africa - a place I knew fairly well as I'd lived there for a period of time. She'd been in America on business, was heading home when her flight was cancelled, and had been trying to reach her husband for hours to let him know she was stuck in DC. She was exhausted, sad, frazzled, and felt completely out of her element - helpless and losing hope.

I love moments like these - simple human connection through a simple gesture.

After making the call to her husband and sending a few emails to co-workers explaining her situation she thanked me profusely, offered to buy me coffee (to which I declined as I'd just filled my mug with tea), and parted ways.

From this one seemingly insignificant moment my spirit was instantly lifted. I no longer cared about waiting in the airport. I began chatting with people around me and tried to ease their minds about being home for the holidays. I felt like skipping, throwing daisy peddles, dancing a jig - joy, pure joy, resounded through me.

What do I make of all this?

I'm not exactly sure.

In simple terms I now see an empty seat as an opportunity - an opportunity to connect, to touch, to see, to be a part of another's life.

Saturday, January 2, 2010

Ladies, Lets Go There!

One of the most honoring aspects I've experienced in my friendships with women is their trust to disclose deep, personal, serious, hilarious, and/or embarrassing issues, struggles, and/or stories with me. Authenticity attracts authenticity! So, in the words of my girl Emily, 'lets go there'...and as we ring in this new year I'd like to dedicate this blog to all my ladies in hopes that this will start the conversation n' ya'all with add to it!

Topic #1 - Scary Hairy
The good Lawd giveth and taketh away…He gave me a great head of hair and then didn’t stop there. I have been in a constant battle/all out war with body hair since the third grade. I distinctly remember one day at YMCA day camp some lil’ jackass junior high boy attracting attention to the hair on my legs. Humiliated I was determined to rectify that issue by marching straight home, locking myself in the bathroom, and taking my mother’s old lady razor to my dry hairy legs. Needless to say, this was not my most brilliant moment. However, it was not the most brainless either. No, my most idiotic attempt at hair removal would be the day I bought an Epilady – I know, seriously who even remembers these horrible torture devices? After screaming my way through 5 seconds of Epilady’s vindictive agony I begged my mother to return the devil device that I’d spent my entire month’s allowance on!

Since these futile days of vain conceit, I have shaved, plucked, waxed, and just recently underwent laser hair removal. I’m really in no financial position to keep up with these treatments but I will share that laser hair removal has been my most successful attempt and when I factor in the $70+ I spend each time waxing…well, it may be worth it to once and for all be finished with hair!

Thoughts...stories...feedback...Feel free to weigh in…

Topic #2 - The Glories of Being a Woman
Warning: information in this post may be TMI for those of the male species!

Ask a woman about the first time she got her period and you will undoubtedly have some great material for a stand-up comedy set.

"I thought I was dying"

"My dad found my pad"

"My mom made a special family dinner"

Classic.

My period has always a mind of her own. I 'started' when I was 12 and then Aunt Flo went on vacation for about eight years. Concerned that her extremely non-sexually active 20 year old daughter may have complications 'down-the-road' getting pregnant my mother urged me to go to the gyno. Dr. Pap, convinced that I was lying about being a virgin, recommended I go on birth control to regulate my periods.

Bad, bad, bad advice!

Doctors often seem to leave out nuggets of information...

For instance, had I known about the excruciating pain I would have to endure getting my period for the first time after eight years I would have opted for the roller ball surgery (Hysteroscopic Endometrial Ablation). And why did no one warn me about the possibility of gaining 20lbs or having my boobs swell from a pleasant B to a painful and unruly C?!?!?!

Needless to say, I changed my doctor and learned about getting second and third opinions.

One fabulous invention I have grown to love is the Diva Cup (http://www.divacup.com/). After reading an article about how some tampons actually contain fibers that make women bleed more so that they need to use/BUY more tampons, I decided there had to be another solution. Completely eco-friendly, the Diva Cup may take a little getting used to and is probably not for the squeamish. Of course you should ask your doctor about it - but from my non-doctoral opinion, the Diva Cup is the greatest invention since peanut butter and chocolate!